


Walking Mouth

by cryptidbf



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: M/M, Shut Up Kiss, What are they even doing, idk what else to tag this with, they're idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidbf/pseuds/cryptidbf
Summary: It's late, Roy won't shut up, and Stefan just wants to know what his lips would feel like against his.





	Walking Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm aj, i'm 23, and i never learned how to fucking WRITE
> 
> (shoutout to charlotte i love you)

Stefan is very much at his breaking point.

Really, he should’ve seen this coming when they’d asked him and Roy to temporarily partner up for a case. Lord knew he couldn’t stand to be in the room with him for more than a minute. As it was, they’d been sitting in this Godforsaken car for  _ hours  _ now waiting for a perp who was probably never coming and all the other man had done was complain, complain,  _ complain _ — about this and that and so-and-so. Did he  _ ever _ shut up?  Stefan is starting to think the answer to that question is a very firm no. 

He’s more or less tuned out at this point, only catching the occasional odd statement and nothing else. Absentmindedly, he takes his hat off and fans himself with it. Only right that it’d be a million degrees tonight of all nights. Perfect recipe for stress and no way to release it. Stefan squeezes his eyes shut and leans his head back against the seat.

“I just don’t see why we need to work together on this one.”

Okay, he caught that. 

“Roy,” Stefan starts, and he turns to look at him with raised brows, “I don’t want to be in this car anymore than you do.”

That gets him to shut up.

Unfortunately, the quiet only lasts for a second.

Once he’s over the initial shock of being talked back to, Roy’s swerving right back into whatever rant Stefan had interrupted in the first place. Stefan breathes out a frustrated sigh and hits his head against the back of the seat. Well, nothing to do now but just let it happen. He lifts his head and despite himself, his gaze settles on Roy. This thought made him want to hit his head again, but— Roy has a fairly nice mouth. Damn shame that whenever he opened it, a never ending stream of bullshit and complaints came tumbling out.

Hm.  _ Walking Mouth _ . That should be Roy’s nickname. God, he’d  _ hate _ it. Stefan lets out an amused snort at the idea. When that earns him a glare from his temporary partner, he laughs.  _ Hard _ . So hard he doubles over.

“What, exactly, is so funny?” 

Stefan chokes out one last laugh before straightening back up and averting his gaze. “Nothing,” he says, as innocently as he can possibly manage, “Just thought of a joke I heard last week. Only hit me now how funny it actually was.”

Roy rolls his eyes— taps his fingers on his steering wheel impatiently. “You know,” he says, “I’m not even remotely surprised that you’re focused on anything  _ but _ our case.”

Stefan’s own fingers twitch and even though it could be considered the opposite of a good idea, he reaches out to still Roy’s hand before he goes insane from the incessant tapping. He doesn’t let go— just keeps his hand over his. Some terrible voice at the back of his head tells him that he kinda likes the way it feels. “We’ve been out here for hours already,” he says, “Face it, Roy. The asshole’s probably wisened up and on his way out of Los Angeles by now.”

For a moment, Roy just stares down at their hands like he’s trying to burn a hole through them. Then, he yanks his hand out of Stefan’s grasp with a glare. “You don’t know that,” he says, “There’s still a chance.”

“Sure,” Stefan says, “If that helps you sleep tonight.”

Something Stefan’s noticed about Roy in the (regrettably lengthy) time they’ve known each other: he’s long since perfected his ‘ _ I hate you, please die _ ’ face. And while it may have worked on anybody else, all it does is get another laugh out of him. In response, Roy’s glare shifts into something more akin to ‘ _ Not only do I completely loathe you, I’ll be the one to murder you _ .’ Stefan just laughs harder. Okay, maybe he’s starting to lose it a little, but he imagines that anybody who’d spent their precious evening with Roy Earle while he’d done nothing but complain would too. What is it now? Hour three? Four? His watch says it’s past midnight.

Despite himself, a few more wheezy laughs escape.

“I’m glad you find this all so amusing, Bekowsky,” Roy says, tone dryer than Death Valley, “Christ, how does Cole even put up with you?” He’s got his fingers on the steering wheel again. Tap. Tap.  _ Tap. _

Stefan reaches out to grab his hand— merely grins when Roy swats it away. “Dunno,” he says, “Probably helps that he’s always preoccupied with something else. Like solving a case.” He pauses and gives Roy a more crooked grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Or a certain secretary.”

At that, Roy pretends to gag. “Don’t remind me,” he says, and he wrinkles his nose, “It’s almost sickening how far gone he is for her.”

“Aw, come on,” Stefan says, “You can’t tell me you’re  _ that _ heartless, Roy.”

Roy rolls his eyes so hard that it’s shocking they didn’t just fall out of his head. “Despite popular belief, no, I’m  _ not _ entirely heartless,” he says, “I just think seeing Cole act like a lovesick fool is borderline disturbing and I might consider therapy to get over it.”

“You work in Vice,” Stefan points out.

“Yeah, and I can confidently say lovesick Cole’s the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Roy says. He inhales sharply— his fingers are suddenly tightly curled around the steering wheel. “Second to none.”

Stefan wants to hold his hand again— this time, more as a gesture of comfort. What kind of thought is  _ that _ ? He shakes his head. “Sorry for even bringing it up, then,” he says.

“You should be,” Roy says, and he scoffs slightly, “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters.”

Rolling his own eyes, Stefan shifts and actually reaches out for Roy’s hand again, moving it away from the steering wheel. He’s mildly surprised when Roy doesn’t pull away immediately. “Relax,” he says, “No point in getting yourself worked up over nothing.”

“Problem is,” Roy starts, and he finally takes his hand out of Stefan’s grip, “I  _ am _ worked up now.”

And… off he goes. About Cole. About their perp. About the weather and the fact they’ve been sitting here forever and practically everything else under the sun. Stefan doesn’t actually know how he’s caught any of it, considering that he’s very much focused on his mouth again and the way it moves. Briefly, and this thought is something of a disaster waiting to happen, he wonders what it’d feel like to kiss him. He can only assume Roy’s a good kisser; nobody who talked that much could be capable of using their lips improperly. It’s just pure, unadulterated fact and one he knew well.

Roy’s yet to shut up and his curiosity has only grown with each word. There is only one, clear thought in his mind at this point:  _ God, I want to kiss you _ . His mouth is inexplicably dry. His pulse is racing. Okay, he’s going to do this. He’s  _ really _ going to do this. With all the boldness of an idiot who doesn’t quite consider the consequences before he acts, he pulls Roy forward by the tie and closes the gap between them. 

Not-so-surprisingly, that gets Roy to shut up. More surprising, however, is the fact he’s working his lips against Stefan’s.  _ Huh _ . He is a good kisser. Stefan doesn’t have much time to focus on that before he’s distracted by the fact that Roy’s pushing him against the door of the car. Yeah, that’s happening. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and lets go of Roy’s tie, moving to slide his hands up onto his shoulders. Roy chooses that moment to deepen the kiss and Stefan is more than a little mad that it gets a certain reaction out of him, his fingernails digging into Roy’s jacket.

It’s then that Roy pulls away, eyes wide and breath ragged. He opens his mouth to speak— shuts it. That makes Stefan want to laugh— and he does. Had he actually honest-to-god left Roy Earle, of all people,  _ speechless _ ? It would seem so if the way he’s just gawking at him is any indicator. 

Roy inhales sharply. Exhales. Finally managing to find his words, he says, “What was that for?” 

“Just to shut you up,” Stefan replies, “and it worked.”

For a long, unbearably tense moment, Roy continues to stare at him. Then, he’s pulling Stefan back in, mouth parted and fingers raking through his hair. Stefan is all-too-happy to reciprocate and he tugs Roy even closer by the arms, effectively pinning himself underneath him. That might’ve been the wrong move, as Roy immediately takes the advantage to grind against him. It takes Stefan everything he has to hold back the moan threatening to rise from his throat— and apparently, it isn’t enough, as it slips out anyway. 

Again, Roy takes the advantage and deepens the kiss, hands sliding up Stefan’s thighs. That gets him. Despite a voice in the back of his head telling him he shouldn’t, Stefan goes for Roy’s belt and—

They’re rudely interrupted by the sound of squealing tires. Roy is the first to jump back, immediately moving to turn the engine over. “Later,” he says, “We’ll continue this later.”

All Stefan can get out is a very shaky chuckle. “Can’t argue with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> just what the fuck tho


End file.
